


Cling to the Light

by 3spooky5u



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Accidental Voyeurism, Confessional, Demon Blood, Demonic papa iii, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-01 23:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3spooky5u/pseuds/3spooky5u
Summary: As a new Sister of Sin, a chance encounter with the Third Emeritus Brother sticks with you; more than you'd expect it to. You find yourself drawn to him in ways that feel outside of your control.





	1. Chapter 1

The abbey was quiet, as it usually was. The only sound was the soft tapping of your bare feet against the marble floors. It was late. All of the other sisters and clergy members had been asleep for hours, but once again, you found yourself restless. 

The halls outside of the nave were lined in marble columns that separated the space from the open courtyard in the middle of the abbey. This was where you usually paced, in these early hours of the morning. Even the frogs and crickets were quiet this evening. It seemed everything was asleep besides you. 

You sighed, sitting down, facing the courtyard with your back against a column. The breeze made you shiver as the chill bit through your nightgown. You hugged your legs to your chest. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure enter the courtyard. He was clothed in black, but his movement against the white marble alerted you to him in this otherwise dark landscape. He began pacing. He got so close to you at one point that you could hear him mumbling to himself, but he had his head bowed in such a way that deterred you from seeing his face. You stayed as still as you could, not wanting to startle him or draw attention to yourself. 

Once in the middle of the courtyard, he looked up at the sky, the moonlight shining on his face. It was the Third Emeritus Brother. You could feel your pulse quicken in his presence, and you slowly rose yourself to your feet. Your only saving grace was that your nightgown was the same color as the column behind you, and you stayed glued to it as you carefully moved. 

You’d finally rounded the column and were about to leave when you heard a long and heavy sigh from the Third. His voice rang out, crystal clear, in the midst of the silence. 

“Why have you cursed me like this?”

_ Cursed? _

“I know what my bloodline calls me to do. And I shall do it. But why must it be so difficult?” 

He sounded so… tormented. Nothing like his older brother, the Second, the current head of the Church. You'd never heard such emotion from him, even during his masses. 

You closed your eyes. You felt something inside you pulling you to turn around and look at him. You  _ knew _ this moment was meant to be private, but it was as if you were a puppet on a string, and you couldn’t do anything but turn and look. 

He looked like a statue in the middle of the short grass. Unwavering and solemn. His eyes flicked between the stars in the night sky, as if he were looking to them for answers. You wanted to do nothing more than console him in that moment, but you bit your tongue and remained where you were. You couldn’t possibly understand what this was. What was making him ache like this. It was beyond your comprehension. And it wasn’t your place as a lowly sister. He had advisors that could assist him. He had his father and his brothers. He didn’t need any help from you. 

Finally, he lowered his head. Sighing once more, he turned to leave from where he came. But he caught your gaze upon turning, his eyes widening as they settled on you. You felt your face turn red, and you quickly turned tail and dashed away from his sight. 

“W-wait-!” You could hear him following you, his feet rustling the grass, then tapping against the marble as he reached the hall. 

You ducked into the nave, heaving open a large door and shutting it behind you. Your eyes scanned the area; the pews, the altar, the confessional. You chose the latter, shutting yourself in on the side of the confessor. 

You could hear him from outside your hide, when suddenly, his movements slowed and the other side of the confessional opened. 

You could barely make out his silhouette in the darkened space. He remained quiet for a moment before finally speaking. 

“How much of that did you hear?” His voice was soft.

You didn’t reply.

“It’s okay. I promise that I am not angry.”

“...All of it.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Shit.... I am so sorry.” He sounded exasperated. “I thought I was alone.”

“I know,” you said. “I, I didn’t mean-”

“No, I know….” You could hear his hands rubbing his face. “I don’t mean to worry anybody. Would you come out?”

“...Okay.”

The two of you stepped out of the confessional. You stood before him, and though he wasn’t much taller than you, you felt heads smaller. You could hardly meet his eyes. 

“Sister-” He began to explain, then stopped himself. “...Please forget this.” 

You didn’t respond.

“Can you promise me that you’ll forget this?”

“...I can try.”

“That is all I ask. I will leave you be.”

He turned around and started walking away. But you couldn’t just leave it at that. 

The sound of your own voice surprised you as it cut through the air. “A-are you okay?”

He turned again to face you. “Am I  _ okay?”  _ He seemed genuinely surprised by your inquiry.

“Are you okay.” You repeated, no longer a question.

He barely smiled. “It doesn’t matter, Sister.”

“I think it does. You sounded so sad….”

He hung his head before slowly approaching you again. He nodded as he tried to find words. “I did sound sad, didn’t I?”

You nodded back.

“I have a lot on my plate, yes? I’m sure you understand.”

Another nod. 

He placed a hand on your shoulder. “Sister… you are very sweet to worry about me. But please… think of this as a dream.”

“I’m sorry, Emeritus-”

The sound of the name made him wince slightly, but enough that you noticed, and you cut yourself off. 

“Sister, call me Giovanni.” 

“Yes, Giovanni.” You curtsied.

He took your hand and planted a kiss to it, then walked away, leaving you blushing and shivering alone in the nave. Once he was gone, you quickly walked back to your quarters, looking to put this away, and praying that you would wake thinking that it  _ was _ all just a dream. 

-

You awoke in the morning having forgotten nothing, and you cursed yourself for it. It weighed heavily upon you; you knew it was something you were never meant to see. Perhaps it was time to go to confession. 

The Second’s presence was nothing short of daunting, but interacting with him through the confessional made it easier. After breakfast with the Sisters, you went to confess, trying to not lose too much time from the day. 

Confession in this Church was different; you would confess your sins, and likely be praised, sometimes rewarded. Everyone was encouraged to feel guiltless. But it wasn’t easy to acclimate. Especially for you. 

You entered the booth. “Forgive me, for I have sinned. It has been three days since my last confession.”

“And what shall you confess?” 

You stood pin straight at that voice. It wasn't the Second’s.

“Giovanni?” You whispered.

There was a new edge to his voice. Though it wasn’t anger. “Are you here to confess, Sister?”

“Ah- yes, I am. I… I had a  _ dream _ last night. That I heard something I shouldn’t have heard.”

“What did you hear?”

“Someone talking to themselves. They seemed quite sad.”

“Are you worried about them?”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t be. I’m sure they will be fine, yes?”

“Yes, but… I just wish that I told them something in that dream.”

He waited silently for you to continue.

“I wish I told them that they need not feel ashamed. That everyone has fears. And that admitting to them is not a weakness. It is a strength.”

He didn’t move or speak, and you could feel the tension growing sharp in the small booth. 

“Giovanni, I-”

“Would you come to confession tomorrow, Sister?”

“Is that what is needed of me?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will.”

“Thank you, Sister.”

-

The hours passed by much too slowly. Your racing thoughts made it no easier. 

_ Did he ever talk like this with the other sisters? Did you somehow make yourself a special case? Why did he need you to come back for confession? _

You couldn’t shake them from you. And though you couldn’t sleep, you were scared to repeat the night in the courtyard. So you stared at the ceiling in your bunk as the other sisters slept soundly. But you couldn’t figure out why you were  _ scared. _ It felt so irrational. You  _ knew _ he wouldn’t hurt you. 

You jumped as soon as you knew the confessional would be open. You tried as hard as you could to contain yourself, but your hands were shaking. You reached the booth and sat down, feeling sweat prickly on the back of your neck.

“Giovanni?”

“Good morning, Sister.”

A sigh of relief. “I’m so glad it’s you.”

“Why do you worry so much? I can hear it on your voice. I’ve told you to pay me no mind.” Again, he didn’t sound angry. 

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t seem to help it….” You looked to your hands. “I feel something  _ pulling _ me to you. I don’t know what.”

“Sister, I feel….” He tried to find his words. “I feel something, too. Perhaps we should both try ignoring it.”

“Why?” You turned to face his side of the booth, trying to see him through the perforations of the confessional. He was looking down, avoiding you.

He exhaled. “The winds of change are blowing, Sister. Things will not be so simple for me anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

“It is not a bad thing,” he tried reassuring you, and failed.

“Then why do you sound so broken up about it?”

“...Will you return tomorrow?” 

“Of course.” 

“Then we shall speak tomorrow, Sister.”

-

You sat down again in the confessional, no longer so nervous. It seemed this had become a routine. You inquired about him, he fed you something small, and then he asked you to return. It had been almost a week since seeing him in the courtyard. 

"How are you this morning, Giovanni?"

"You know, Sister, you really should start these conversations like a normal confession. I won't always be the one manning this booth."

You chuckled, feeling yourself settle in. "I suppose that's a good idea. I'll miss your company when that day comes." 

"... And I will miss yours, Sister." 

You could feel a growing sense of pride in that. You leaned back comfortably. "One of these days, you'll tell me what's really going on with you."

"Oh, I will?" 

"Yes." You smiled. "You'll find enough trust to tell me. One day."

"Hm. And what makes you so sure of that?"

"I just have a feeling."

"Ah, yes, another one of your  _ feelings." _ He couldn't help but scoff.

“I mean it. My last feeling told us to keep speaking. It’s done you some good, wouldn’t you say?”

“It has not done me ill. I will say that much.”

You looked down, watching your hands as you twiddled your thumbs. “...Will you ever speak to me face-to-face again, Giovanni?”

“Sister, we are about an inch away from doing just that, everyday.”

“But, the partition… it’s not the same.”

He sighed, and it was knowing. Like he agreed with you but wasn’t willing to admit it. “Perhaps one day. Right now… this is the time that I can spare.” 

You hummed and nodded in acknowledgement.

“Please come back tomorrow, Sister.” There was quiet anticipation in his voice. 

“Yes. I will.”

-

The next day, you straightened your skirts as you sat down in the confessional once again, remembering what Giovanni said to you.

“Forgive me, for I have sinned. It has been one day since my last confession.”

“Only one day… such a devout sister.”

The voice coming from the other side had nearly rendered you speechless. 

“P-Papa… I’m sorry, I had expected your younger.” 

“You sound  _ disappointed _ , Sister. Have you become one of his playthings?”

“His what?” 

“Then the answer is no. Have you come to confess or not?” He was getting quite short with you.

With your thoughts racing, you pulled some lies from nowhere, confessing about some made-up debauchery. The Second quickly praised you and ushered you away to attend to the members that were waiting to confess next. 

It was time to find some answers. It might not have been your place, but this was getting much too cryptic for you to brush aside. You rushed to Sister Imperator’s office, knocking on the large wooden door once you arrived. 

“Sister Imperator?” 

“Yes, dear? Come in.”

You entered her well-lit office, sitting across from her. Her hands were folded on her desk, and she smiled upon seeing you.

“Ah, it’s you! Have you settled in? I’m sorry I haven’t gotten the chance to check on you. I always do like to follow up with the new sisters.”

You didn’t have the time to worry about that. “Yes, I’m fine. I… was wondering if you knew where Emeritus the Third might be?”

She raised her eyebrows at your question, smirking. “Oh, have some business with him, Sister?” There was a mischievous tilt to her voice.

But you weren’t following. “I suppose so.”

“He should be in his chambers. I’m sure he’ll be expecting you.”

Did she…  _ wink _ at you?

You thanked her and quickly left. 

You tried to remember where his chambers were, eventually reaching a wing of the church grounds that you’d never been in before. Some ornate wooden doors and a carved Roman numeral “three” told you that you were in the right place. 

You poised yourself to knock on the door but something stopped you. Something nagged at you to put your ear to the door. As soon as you did, everything made sense. Papa Emeritus II’s remark about you being a “plaything,” and Sister Imperator’s wink and snide comments. You could hear the distinct sounds of fucking from behind the doors. Giovanni’s voice cut through the fog in your mind; his moaning and heavy breathing punctuated by the slapping of skin against skin. His noises were almost… animalistic. He was growling. Hungry. 

The woman receiving him seemed all too happy to be doing so. The sounds were rendering your mind useless and hazy. You leaned against the door, sliding to the ground, drinking in the cacophony at your back. You were immediately consumed with the desire to be taken by him just as this other woman was. You’d never considered it until this very moment, but once you had, the thought was unavoidable. 

You needed to be behind that door. You needed to find out more about him. You needed the intimacy. You needed  _ him.  _

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

You tilted your head back, breathing deeply, then synching yourself up with his ragged panting. He sounded as if he was getting close. 

You bit your lip, practically drawing blood, it was all you could do to keep from snaking your hand up your skirts and touching yourself in the hallway. It was a small miracle that it was empty, but you weren't about to chance it. 

Giovanni began muttering curses under his breath, slurring words of pleasure in his mother tongue. Hearing him speak it sent you reeling. Those words were thick honey spilling from his mouth, their delicious sounds making it all the more difficult for you to hold onto whatever composure you had left. And just as you thought you might break, he finally came. Guttural, unearthly moans escaping him, as you imagined what it must be like to be filled up by him. 

There was no afterglow to speak of. He and his partner quickly dressed and he sent her off. You scrambled down the hallway as you heard the locks on the door turning, and the woman emerged. Just as you thought, she was a fellow Sister of Sin. But you didn't know her. And you'd never seen him talking to her. And  _ you _ talked to him every day. How was it that she was able to enjoy him like this and you were left behind? 

No. That type of jealousy was pointless. It would only lead to resentment, and the last thing you wanted was to resent him. You pulled yourself together and started off down the hallway. But sounds from the Third's doors stopped you in your tracks as he emerged.

He caught your eye and immediately began to turn red. He fidgeted, running his hands through his glossy black hair, playing with a button on the cuff of his sleeve. Once again avoiding eye contact. 

"Oh, Sister. What are you doing in this part of the abbey?"

"Just… taking a walk. You?" You cursed yourself for asking such a foolish question. He  _ lived  _ here.

"I live here. These are my quarters." 

You chewed on the inside of your lip. What a fool you were. "Oh, of course! I'm sorry."

"No need to be. I guess you got that face-to-face talk you wanted after all, yes?"

"I guess so. Where were you this morning?"

"I was… busy. Taking care of some things." He shifted his weight. "Not expecting my brother, eh?"

"No. But thankfully I took your advice and acted like I was actually confessing." 

He smiled. "Good, good. He will be leaving for more rituals again soon. So I will be taking his place again while he's gone." 

As he spoke, you were hyper aware of the trace sweat on his brow. Of the hair on his head that was out of place. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Just moments ago you were listening to him fuck another woman. And here you both were acting like nothing had happened at all. 

"So we will be able to speak like we usually do, yes?"

You had forgotten to answer. "Oh, yes! Of course!"

Hardly looking up to you, he held out his hand for yours. You almost didn't respond, but you placed your hand within his, and he brought it to his mouth, his lips brushing your knuckles in a chaste kiss goodbye. He was soft and warm and you craved more of his touch, but you knew this would have to do for now. 

"Until confession," he said, as he walked off down the halls. 

"Until confession..." you whispered, Giovanni no longer in earshot. 

You held the hand he kissed close to your chest, like a lovesick child.

...This was bad. 

-

You turned in your bed that night, unable to find any respite from your thoughts. Every time your mind wandered, it settled on Giovanni. You felt a sort of guilt for fixating on him like this. But you couldn’t ignore that fact that fate kept bringing you together. In small and seemingly unimportant ways. 

It was time for another walk.

It was cooler out this night than the week before. You folded your arms into yourself, letting your legs take you wherever they pleased. And naturally… you ended up at the Third’s door. You sighed, running your hands down the surface of the soft, glossy wood, tracing the carvings with your fingertips. 

His secret couldn’t have been as simple as fucking a Sister of Sin. It was too common in the abbey to actually be a scandal. No, there was still something melancholic about him, in the way he looked at you. Just behind his eyes. There had to be more to it. And you could find out. All you had to do… was knock. 

You raised a fist, and like earlier in the day, you paused to place your ear to the door. Nothing. There was nothing stopping you. So why was this so difficult? 

Your thoughts were cut off by the door opening. There Giovanni stood, mouth agape at you. The timing of this was all too perfect. 

“Ah… hello.” He managed.

“Hi….” 

He was dressed much more casually than he usually was, and showing more skin than you’d ever seen. His white button down shirt was half open, the pale skin of his chest exposed. You tried not to stare. 

“On another walk, Sister?” It seemed he wasn’t too surprised to see you. Perhaps he too was catching on. This was one coincidence too many. 

“Yes.” 

“Join me.” 

“Yes.” 

He stepped out and his disheveled state was all too charming. He wasn’t even wearing shoes. Well… neither were you. You two matched. He glanced over you, taking in your appearance in turn. 

He walked alongside you, placing his hands behind his back. 

“You haven’t been here long, have you, Sister?”

“No, I haven’t been. I’m still getting used to everything.”

“I can imagine that it is… a lot to take in. Quite different from anything else in the world, yes?”

“Absolutely.”

“...What drew you into the Church?”

You had to think on that for a moment. It wasn’t anything  _ specific  _ necessarily… just that it  _ felt  _ like the best thing for you. But you couldn’t tell him that it was a feeling. You knew he’d make fun of you. 

“...It just seemed right. It seemed like somewhere that I could belong.”

“Ah, good. Every person has a place here, Sister. From you, to a Cardinal, to a ghoul, to me. We are all here for a reason, and to serve a higher purpose.”

“I know... Sometimes I can’t help but feel that my place here is so much smaller than everyone else’s.”

“I assure you, that is not the case. Besides, having more responsibility isn’t necessarily better. It’s definitely no more fun.”

You smiled to yourself as you kept strolling, passing the courtyard and the marble columns, where you’d first encountered each other. 

He turned to you, his movements hesitant. “...Can I show you something?”

“Of course.”

He took you down a dark hallway that lead to doors even more ornately carved than his. He quietly pushed them open, letting you in. There was a pale stream of moonlight coming in from the open door, but once Giovanni closed it behind him, you couldn’t see a thing. He moved in the dark, hands reaching out in front of him. He brushed your arm accidentally and knocked something over before finally finding what he was looking for.

“Ah, shit… alrighty, here we go.” A match quickly caught fire, enveloping his figure in a warm glow. He moved to light candles all around the room, the smell of smoke and the yellow golden light filling the space, revealing a lavishly decorated study. 

“Oh wow….” The room’s centerpiece was a great wooden desk with a leather chair perched behind it. Behind the chair was a stone fireplace, a painting hung above the mantle. All around the room were shelves and shelves of books and scrolls. 

“It is my brother’s. But… not for long.”

You looked to him, and he read the question in your expression. 

“Soon… it will be mine.”

Your brows drew together. “But… that’s a  _ good  _ thing.”

He couldn’t meet your gaze. He glanced around the room, busying himself by pulling books and idly reading their covers. “Yes… I am to become Papa Emeritus III.” 

“Giovanni, that’s wonderful.” His lack of response spoke volumes. “But… you’re not happy.”

He exhaled. “It is not exactly that. The process is not an easy one.”

“What does it entail?”

He unraveled a scroll sitting atop a shelf, blowing the dust from its surface. “Do you see that painting up there?”

Ah. So that was all he was going to give you for now. “It’s lovely.”

“It’s a Caravaggio.”

You shook your head. “Can’t be a real one.”

“It is. It was stolen years ago.”

You laughed. “And nobody noticed?”

_ Finally _ he looked you in the eye, smiling ever so slightly. “It was replaced. It turns out that ghouls can be trained to copy paintings with great accuracy.”

The two of you laughed, trying to keep your voices down as best you could. 

“Thank you for trusting me, Giovanni.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Sure, Sister. Now let’s get out of here before anyone wakes up.”

He blew out the candles and lead you back outside. 

“Will you need any help decorating?” You joked. 

“Perhaps. I think there are some things I might change. Although I’m sure my father would not be pleased if I gutted the place.”

“Was it originally his?”

“It was.”

He had some big shoes to fill. 

As you kept walking you bit your lip. He admitted something to you. Maybe you needed to do the same. You thought that keeping it bottled up could be feeding your frustration. And if admitting it could keep you from daydreaming about him, it would be worth it. 

“Can I confess something?” You asked.

“Okay. But it must be bad if you can’t wait until the morning.” 

“It’s a little embarrassing….”

“Oh?”

“I came by your chambers earlier today to speak to you… and I heard something. Something I probably shouldn’t have heard.”

“This seems to be a theme with you.”

“I know, I’m sorry….”

“What did you hear?”

“I heard you… and a woman. A sister.”

He turned red once again. “You heard  _ that?”  _

“Yes.”

“Maybe I should put a bell around your neck.”

You turned red right alongside him at that prospect. “I’m sorry, Giovanni.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You could always call first. I do have a rotary phone."

"I… don't know your number." 

How cliche. 

"We're almost back to my chambers. I'll write it down for you."

"Thank you." 

He lead you into his room, shutting the door behind you, and you could see that his tastes were not too different from his father's or brother's. This room, too, was lit with many candles and adorned with wooden furniture. There was a massive bed in the middle, with posts nearly touching the ceiling, draped in a sheer canopy. The sheets and quilts were a luxurious dark purple. On the left wall, a small fireplace was lit, flames crackling. He had his own small desk, and sure enough, there sat a black rotary phone. 

He walked to it, grabbing a piece of parchment from one of the drawers and scrawling down his number for you. 

"Here. So you don't have to hear  _ that _ again."

He meant the fucking. 

"You do that often, then?" You couldn't help but ask. Especially while standing in his room. You imagined feeling a fistful of those soft sheets as he bent you over the edge of his bed, hands caressing your back while he whispered endearments to you. 

"...Why don't you try going to sleep now, Sister? It's getting late." 

Right. It probably wasn't your place to ask that kind of question. 

"Yes. Sorry." You clutched the parchment in your hand. "Thank you."

"Sleep well."

"You too, Gio-"

You were cut off by a sharp knock on the door. His head quickly snapped to the clock on his desk. 

"Shit."

"What's wrong? Who is that?"

He rushed to you and gently grabbed you by your shoulders. 

"Sister, I- I know this is going to sound unreasonable, but I need you to hide under the bed. Let me take care of this." 

It  _ did  _ sound unreasonable. But he had a desperate look in his eye. 

"...Okay."

"Thank you!" He kissed you on the cheek, leaving you breathless. "Stay quiet. Like a little church mouse." He playfully put a finger to his lips as he backed away from you towards the door. 

You nodded, getting on your back and scooting under his bed. There was a sizable about of space, and it was kept fairly clean. That was a relief.

You held your breath as he answered the door. 

"Mia cara," he said, his voice immediately different. It sounded like he was putting on a show. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I'll have to reschedule with you… I am so very tired."

_ Reschedule?  _ It was the early morning. 

A woman's voice answered. "Oh, really? I was  _ so  _ looking forward to this." Her voice was wanting. 

"Yes, my dear, I know. And I am  _ so  _ sorry." 

"Are you sure, though? You look… really wonderful tonight." You didn't need to look to know that she was touching him. 

"As do you, mia cara." 

"It would be a shame to do nothing then, wouldn't it?" 

"There's always time in the future, my d- ohhh… you don't _ need  _ to do that…." 

You could feel your face growing hot. You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep silent. Every inch of you was a live wire. 

"Yes, but I  _ want  _ to… and I can tell that you need it. You always need it." 

His breath was catching in his chest. You screwed your eyes shut. Why did this have to happen while you were here? Why were you being tortured like this?

Her voice became soft. You needed to hold your breath to hear it. "You're so hard already… unless you want me to suck your cock in the hall, I suggest you let me in."

Wordlessly, he did so, locking the doors. You could see only a sliver of the scene before you from under the bed. Perhaps that was for the best. She dropped to her knees in front of him, and you could hear his pants being undone before watching them hit the floor. He stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. 

She giggled. "So impatient… don't deny your new desires. They'll just make you stronger."

"Ahh- f-fuck…." 

She hummed, and her mouth sounded full. Sloppy, wet noises quickly followed, and you could feel yourself unraveling with every sound that escaped him. 

"Shit-! Ahh, mia cara… that is so good… I am... so sorry… ah-!"

You knew that the apology wasn't directed to her. It was meant for you. 

You silently nodded.  _ It's okay, it's okay…. _

Your hand seemed to move on its own, finding the hem of your skirts and going under it. It worked its way underneath your panties and over the mound of your pussy to touch your folds. You were soaked.

His voice turned gruff again, that growling tone you heard the night before. Just the sound of it practically had you moaning. You bit down on the hand still covering your mouth. Desperate and wanton. 

Until the sounds suddenly stopped. 

The sister stopped to catch her breath. "Let's not be too hasty," she said. "I'd like to enjoy myself, too." 

"Then come here," Giovanni rasped, picking her up from the ground and eliciting a yelp. You could hear above you as the bed frame bowed to her weight, and then the sudden sound of a smack cut through the quiet air. 

You plunged a finger into your soaked pussy. You'd give so much just to be taken by him like this. To feel his hand strike your bare ass like that. 

A noise escaped her that sounded like pure ecstasy. He must have just entered her. A rhythm picked up, rocking the bed, and he began that beast-like moaning of his again. 

The encounter tonight seemed much faster than the one from earlier in the day. Like it was servicing a need to be met. You bit down on yourself harder as they began fucking harder, circling your clit as fast as you could manage without making any noise. Quickly and haphazardly he reached his breaking point, and he began speaking Italian to himself again. Upon hearing those words, you came, your legs quaking as you listened to him do just the same thing. 

He grunted as he finished, the words "I'm sorry" escaping him again in a choked whisper. The sister asked why he kept apologizing. He didn't answer. He simply ushered her out the door. You smoothed your skirts but couldn't gather yourself fast enough to move. Once she was gone, he walked to the bed, crouching down to see you on the floor. His face was flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You were sure that yours matched. 

His expression was unreadable. 

"... Would you like to get up?"

You nodded, sliding along the floor, out from under his bed. When you stood, he moved to sit on the edge of his mattress, placing his head in his hands. 

"Sister, I- I didn't mean for that to happen. It was so fast, I  _ needed  _ it, I-" He stopped. "I should explain." 

You waited silently. 

"When we… the heirs of the Church… become ready to accept the position of Papa… there certain rites and rituals performed." 

You signaled for him to continue. 

"And  _ as  _ heirs, there's something… special about us. We have infernal blood coursing through our veins. From generations before us. We are part, albeit a  _ small _ part, demon, yes?" 

He looked down at his hands. 

"The rituals heighten the demonic traits in our blood. For me, it manifests as insatiable lust."

Those last two words, together, had you almost drooling. You knew this was hard for him, but you couldn't resist thinking about helping him with that insatiable desire. Letting him use you until he was fulfilled. 

"...I need to plan encounters like that one. Or else it becomes too much. It  _ hurts." _

"I'm so sorry," was the only thing you could say. 

"I  _ will _ control it. I need more time." 

"I believe in you, Giovanni." 

"Thank you, Sister."

You had a million thoughts running through your head. A million things that you wanted to say. "C-could I help you?" You finally stuttered. 

He looked to you, confused. "The only thing that helps is  _ fucking,  _ Sister. You know that by now." 

You stared at your feet, unable to look back at him. "I wouldn't mind that." 

"No."

His answer was curt. It caught you off guard. 

"Oh. Never mind, then. I'm sorry for asking, I just-"

"It's not that I don't want to, I… I think about it every day. About  _ you _ every day."

_ What? _

You blinked, unable to process those words.

"I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't use you like that. These sisters I'm with… they  _ know _ . They  _ volunteer. _ I… I'm not close with them. Not like I am with you… When you were under the bed, you were touching yourself. Weren't you?"

"H-how did you…?" 

He leaned in closer to you, a look of hunger in his eyes. "I could _ smell  _ you… it was delicious, it was all I was thinking of. It clouded my mind." He ran his fingertips softly down your arm until he reached your hand. The one you'd used to touch yourself. "I would cross oceans just to taste you, Sister. But I won't allow myself that luxury until I can have you and only you. Until this lust of mine is controlled. I want to be lucid. I want to remember every second of it." 

He kissed your hand again, breathing you in, growling on the exhale. The sound sent shivers down your spine. 

"With all do respect, Sister… having you here right now is pushing me to my limits. Go to your bed. Close your eyes and dream about me. And I'll pray that I dream about you."   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The truth is finally out there! Hope you all enjoyed this one!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta reader, so please feel free to tell me about any edits needed. Feedback is always appreciated. 🖤


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